Waking Secrets
by VercisIsolde
Summary: Summary: In the aftermath of Moiraine’s death, Rand and Mat each try to cope with deeper pain on their own, but they cannot hide from each other. Oneshot. Is this slash? Could be. Interpret how you will.


Summary: In the aftermath of Moiraine's death, Rand and Mat each try to cope with deeper pain on their own, but they cannot hide from each other. PWP. One-shot. Is this slash? Could be. Interpret how you will.

PG-13 for insane amounts of angst.

A/N: Takes place between books five and six. Try not to choke on the angst – I know it's laid on pretty thick, but what else can be expected? We're talking Rand, here.

Also – I don't know when the first mention of that list of his is…I think it's somewhere in book six – one that I don't have as my books have become a lending library. Decided to include it in here, though. I wanted to put Lewser's voice in as well, 'cause he's awesome, but I don't think he was very talkative yet at this point so I only quoted something he said earlier. Look for my odd use of "the right hand falters and the left hand strays," too. It was completely unintentional, but it's there. Curious, the things I do in my subconscious. I seem to have a liking for hands. And I really should write a fic with a plot one day…

I know Robert Jordan doesn't like people using his characters (_his_, not mine), and I do have respect for him, but fan fiction _is_ legal and it's a _Good Thing_. ::whines:: "It's not like I'm making any money from it!" Oh, and there, it looks like my disclaimer has come out in my complaining, so I'd best get on with the story.

One last note: I hope you enjoy my very first WoT fic, and reviews are also a _Good Thing_ (hint, hint.)

PS – Iolo, your review for Letting Go made me feel all warm and fuzzy! Thank you so much for the kind words and I will post the sequel shortly so you won't be annoyed with me. In the meantime, here's a present: my first contribution to the WoT fanfiction community. Hopefully it lives up to any expectations you might have.

Love VI

Waking Secrets

Rand wandered the halls that circled the Royal Palace in Caemlyn, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night. This wasn't the first time he had walked alone, with only the moonlight to guide him, casting a pale silver glow over everything that it did not throw into shadow.

He knew that he ought to be in bed, but there was no use going back to the room that he slept in. Falling asleep was not the problem; he could manage that easily enough. It was the dreams that held him here, that drove him to pace the halls. They were what made him wake screaming and they were the cause of the dark shadows that had formed beneath his eyes over the last few days.

He stopped at a window overlooking one of the gardens. Bathed in watery moonlight, it appeared almost enchanted. Rand laughed softly at the thought, mirthlessly.

_Moiraine_.

Her name sprang unbidden into his mind, as it had a habit of doing lately. It was soon followed by other names of other women – women who had died because of him. Rand didn't know exactly when the list had started, but it was always in his head, now, often triggered when his thoughts strayed to recent events. He couldn't help thinking about what had happened. He didn't even know if he had accepted it yet.

_Moiraine_.

It was her name that headed the list, and her name that pervaded every dream he suffered through. It mocked him each time he relived that terrible day at the docks.

Rand had never been exactly fond of the woman. Sometimes she had been absolutely infuriating. He had even been tempted on more than one occasion to place all his problems at her feet, though he knew it was foolish to lay the blame on her. She had led him from his home, yet even had she not appeared, he couldn't have escaped his doom. She had helped him and advised him, in her way. Then she had laid down her life for him.

_Moiraine…why?_

Rand knew the answer. Sleeping or waking, it haunted him. Moiraine had died for his weakness. She had died because, even when faced with torture at the hands of one of the Forsaken, he had been too weak to kill a woman. For his failure, two had died instead of one.

Sighing, Rand leaned against the side of the window, rolling up his shirtsleeves to display the red and gold creatures encircling his arms. He stared at the golden-maned heads on the backs of his hands, gleaming dully in the moonlight. Duty. Responsibility. Sometimes it nearly overwhelmed him, but he couldn't make it go away. He was the Dragon Reborn, and he could not be free of that burden until the day he died.

_I shouldn't have too long to wait_, he reminded himself dryly. The thought did little to comfort him.

Rand let himself sink to the ground, resting his forehead against the wall. The window was low enough that he could still see through it, and he gazed blankly at the garden, trying to forget, to escape for just one moment. It seemed impossible.

The sound of approaching footsteps alerted him to the presence of another wanderer long before the new arrival came into sight. Rand remained where he was, waiting, until Mat turned the corner to enter the same stretch of the hall. Shirtless and bareheaded, he had his head down and seemed to be muttering to himself, though the words were undecipherable. Rand watched him come a few steps nearer, before his friend raised his head and stopped with a start, his mouth partway open.

"Hello, Mat," Rand said quietly, turning so his back was to the wall.

Mat shut his mouth and collected himself quickly. "Nice night for a walk, don't you think?" he said airily as he narrowed the distance between himself and Rand.

Rand stared up at him, smiling slightly. "Care to join me?" he asked.

Mat's eyes shifted away. "Actually, I was just- "

"Sit down," Rand interrupted. "We can talk for a bit." Mat looked increasingly uncomfortable, but Rand didn't care. Mat had been slowly slipping away from him ever since their trip to Rhuidean, and now seemed as good a time as any to remedy that. Besides, conversation might help to take his mind off of…other things.

Instead of sitting, however, Mat asked, "What are you doing out here this late? Is everything all right?"

Rand's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Since when are you the concerned and caring friend?" Inside, he thought bitterly, _Of course. We won the battle. Rahvin is dead. What do a few lives matter? That is the cost of a victory. Everything is just fine._ He remembered the voice he had heard in his head at the end of the battle. _Take what you can have._ He had discovered that it was harder to do than it sounded.

"I care about you," Mat said defensively.

"I know," Rand replied. "You just haven't shown it lately."

Mat was silent for a moment, staring at the floor again, but then he sighed and sat down facing Rand. "I guess I'm in an odd mood tonight." He paused for a few seconds, then continued speaking. "So why _are_ you awake? You're so distant now that I can never tell what you're thinking about. Sometimes I feel like I don't know you anymore."

Rand smiled slightly at that. "I could say the same of you," he murmured. Mat shifted, perhaps considering standing back up. He still refused to meet Rand's eyes. "I've just been thinking," Rand continued. "This is the only time I can get some peace and be alone for a while."

"I must be intruding then," Mat said quickly. "I wouldn't want to- "

Rand cut him off again. "What about you? What are you doing out so late?"

Mat laughed. His breath carried the scent of wine and tabac. "I was having trouble sleeping, so I decided to go for a walk. As I said, it's a nice night for it."

Rand looked at him searchingly. The fact that he was hiding something was intuitively obvious, even without his eagerness to leave, and it was worrying. Lately, Mat always seemed to be hiding things. If only he would say what those secrets were…Rand had ideas, but he wanted to know the truth. _I have secrets of my own._ Sometimes, he didn't know whether he wished to talk about them, or conceal them forever.

"You've been drinking," he said softly.

Mat grinned. "And if I have? You're not going to give me a bloody lecture, like Nynaeve would." He laughed once more, as if he found amusement in the very thought of Rand lecturing anyone.

"You're not just out for a walk, are you? What's wrong?" Rand knew he was being blunt, but he had tried to speak more delicately to Mat in the past, and it had only caused his friend to run away from him.

Mat's laughter died fast enough, but his voice was still arrogantly confident as he replied, "What are you talking about? Just because I felt like having a drink doesn't mean there's something wrong. I couldn't sleep and went for a walk. I told you that."

"Why couldn't you sleep?"

"I don't know! Light, Rand, are you training to be a Questioner for the Whitecloaks? Will you bring out the instruments of torture next?"

"Mat," Rand said, trying to keep his voice calm. "I've known you all my life. I can tell when something's bothering you."

Mat tried another grin, which soon transformed into a scowl. "I'm that obvious, am I?" he muttered. There was a long silence as Rand waited for him to say something more. Finally, Mat shrugged awkwardly. "I don't like killing women."

_Moiraine_. The list began again in Rand's mind. He forced it firmly into silence. "I know," he said quietly. "You had a reason for it, though. Melindhra was a Darkfriend. She would have killed you first if you hadn't done anything." _There are no reasons for me, for what I have done._

"It doesn't seem to make much difference," Mat mumbled. "Not really." He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it so it looked even worse than usual, but the action seemed to help him regain some of his composure. "You're probably right. I've tried to stop thinking about it. Listen, I'm not very good at this…this talking thing. I should probably go."

He had eased himself halfway up from the floor before Rand took hold of his arm and pulled him back.

"I know this isn't your idea of a good time, Mat," Rand said firmly, "but a lot has happened lately, a lot has changed, and it's been hard for everyone. I want to make sure you're all right."

"I'm fine," he replied, staring resolutely at the air above Rand's head.

"Are you sure?" Rand asked. Mat made an exasperated sound and started to rise again, but Rand continued talking quickly. "I don't think that you are all right. There's something else that's bothering you and I'm starting to worry. Just talk to me, please. I think it would help."

"What about you?" Mat snarled, finally meeting his eyes. "Have you gone insane yet? Or are you still waiting for it?"

Struck momentarily speechless, Rand could only watch as Mat stood and began walking away. The words had come out of nowhere, but they struck like a hammer on an anvil. His thoughts were a maelstrom, sucking him in until he was nearly engulfed in them. _He doesn't understand…still hiding something…doesn't know what he's talking about…he won't get away with that…_

Rand leapt to his feet, dashing down the corridor after Mat. Catching up to him quickly, Rand roughly spun him around, gripping him tightly by the shoulders. The silver foxhead swung, glinting, from the thong around his neck. Mat let out a small gasp as Rand took hold of it in one hand, using it to pull his friend closer until they were practically touching noses. Rand's hand shook. He barely resisted the urge to rip the medallion from its cord.

"Do you think you have to protect yourself from me?" he breathed. Mat was carefully avoiding eye contact again. "Do you doubt my sanity? Look at me, burn you! Do you doubt it?"

"I bloody well do now," Mat said levelly, staring him straight in the eye. "Let go of me."

Rand relaxed his grip slightly and let the medallion fall from his still-shaking hand. The spark of fury inside of him was cooling as fast as it had ignited. "I – I'm sorry," he muttered. "I don't know what I was thinking."

Mat shook his head. "It's okay. Don't mention it." He appeared unruffled, but Rand thought that he could feel him tremble slightly as he was released.

"Look, why don't we sit down and start over?" Rand suggested. "I'll forget you ever said anything, and you can do the same."

Mat flashed him a tight smile. "I want to get to bed. I'll forget about all this if you like, but there's really nothing left to talk about. Good night, Rand."

This time, all it took to stop him was a touch on the shoulder. "You're still hiding something."

"Please," Mat sighed, facing away from him. "Rand, stop it."

Rand circled him to stand in his path. "I'll stop when I have the truth," he said evenly. His hand rose to Mat's neck, faltering slightly, but eventually coming to rest on the pale scar that encircled it. "What happened in Rhuidean?" Mat closed his eyes and shuddered, lifting his own hand as if to brush Rand's away. Somehow, it strayed in its purpose and their fingers entwined instead. "Why won't you tell me?"

"Nothing," Mat mumbled. "Nothing happened."

"Burn you for a stubborn fool! There's something in your head that wasn't there before. I'm not stupid. I know you went through that bloody doorway," Rand growled, his grip on Mat's hand constricting. "You told me yourself, so don't play like you have no idea what I'm talking about!"

Mat's eyes opened and he blinked, his gaze latching onto Rand's hand as if it was a lifeline. He shivered, and Rand frowned. The night was far from cold. When he spoke, his voice quavered. "There are some secrets that I can't tell anyone. I don't even know if…if I know exactly what they are myself. I can't…I don't know how…Rand, please don't ask me this…"

Rand took a deep breath. This was going nowhere. All he knew now was that he had been right and, judging by Mat's reaction, things might be even more serious than they seemed. His friend was pleading with him.

"I'm not going to force you into anything, Mat," he said gently. "I'm only trying to help you. Would you look at me? I need to see that you understand."

Mat raised his eyes slowly. There was pain in their deep brown depths, and they seemed to be brighter than was natural, but they really were quite beautiful. Rand smiled sadly. "You have such pretty eyes," he murmured.

Mat's whole body went rigid at those words. A spasm crossed his face and his hand tightened on Rand's painfully. He was staring at the other man as if he had never seen him before. "Don't say that," he muttered frantically. "Do not say that. That's what she…and I killed her. Oh Light, Rand, I can't get away from it. So many dead…I tried to stop it but I couldn't. Oh, Light…"

Tears were brimming in his eyes now and, though he seemed to be trying to hold them back, they leaked out anyway. Mat turned away quickly, jerking their hands apart. "I'm sorry," he whispered brokenly, his voice thick. "Just go, Rand. Leave me alone."

"No." Rand moved without hesitation to fold Mat in his arms. He could feel his friend break down, then, giving way to choking sobs that wracked his entire body. Mat cried as if his heart was breaking.

Rand wanted, more than anything, to let himself go as well. The company – and the sympathy – might drive the demons away. The heaviest burdens had been placed upon him, however, and he needed to learn to carry them on his own. He had let himself cry after Moiraine had died. Tonight, he couldn't seem to remember how.

A/N: Additional thanks go to Animus et Anima Wyrmis, my lovely beta-reader. We may not always agree, and it may be her fault that this fic has arrived several weeks later than it should have, but without her, the final result of my writing would be slightly worse than what you see here. What a shame that would be. Credit goes to her for the second sentence of the last paragraph, which she wrote all by herself! ::claps::

Hope you enjoyed it…


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